


Familiar, but Foreign

by theparadox



Category: Star Trek
Genre: M/M, post-STID
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 08:45:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theparadox/pseuds/theparadox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dream of a familiar man in the foreign reality of his absence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familiar, but Foreign

The sun is shining on this resort planet and it's simply too warm to even think about being active. Not that Jim minds. In fact, he has the feeling that even if it was tolerably cool, he would not be able to think of a better activity than the one in which he is currently partaking.

He is resting back on the pile of blankets and pillows on the floor that the natives call a bed. It's not what Jim is used to, but he has to admit, it has its perks. It's much larger than a mattress bed and significantly more comfortable. He has no complaints. He is lying back on the soft, white cushions, his arms rested comfortably above his head as he stares at his t'hy'la before him. If his eyes weren't open and his hands active, Jim would have thought him in a state of meditation.

Spock sits on the opposite side of the large bed, his legs crossed easily, his ka'ahtyra placed gently against his leg and shoulder as he strokes a slow, idle tune of no distinct melody. Jim doesn't mind the lack of recognizable music. The gentle sounds mix well with the ones coming from the open walls leading out into the vast air-- the cawing of native wildlife, the sea splashing against the nearby shores. The supplied resort is remote, which guarantees privacy and lack of city sounds. While the lack of metropolitan areas mean no shopping, Jim senses the crew doesn't necessarily mind.

He certainly doesn't.

He lets out a slow, contented sigh as he watched his lover play for him, gradually lifting his eyes to connect with Spock's, which he hadn't noticed where focused distinctly on him. Jim's senses heightened at the sensation, as they always did when Spock's entire concentration was on him. Like he was the subject of an intense study and the most fascinating specimen the Vulcan scientist had seen in quite some time, rather than the human lover he was so used to.

Jim slowly closes his eyes and fills his lungs with the clean air, smiling softly at the mental presence of his t'hy'la. Spock isn't saying anything to him in particular, but he has left the entrance to his mind open freely, as he has had the tendency to do when he is confident they will not be disturbed. The captain happily saunters in and out of the entrance, letting their minds leak together as though they are one. He feels Spock's presence so close, as though he were pressed all around him. Closer than being held, closer than being penetrated. Beyond the physical and into the very psyche until Jim has difficulty deciphering where the two men separating. Though, he figures, he doesn't really mind not knowing.

Gradually, Jim slips off into a peaceful sleep to the sound of Spock's music and the feeling of his penetrative gaze.

Just as gradually as Jim fades, Spock reemerges, a familiar-but-foreign sensation surrounding him. Familiar enough to mistake his surrounding for Vulcan, but foreign enough to recognize the lack of his home planet. He rises and searches his surroundings.

Familiar enough to know himself, but foreign enough to know the better half, the beautiful, brighter half, the very sun that is-- was-- Jim, the place in his bed that should be occupied by that sun, is absent.


End file.
